


Rolling in the Deep

by HitmeonmyTspot



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:33:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 13,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26151961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HitmeonmyTspot/pseuds/HitmeonmyTspot
Summary: A new patient on the rehab unit causes a stir.





	1. Chapter 1

Part one  
“Did you hear the goss” Amita called across. The physio was massaging and manipulating your right leg as you chatted to your new bestie. She was in an equally ridiculous position, another physio moving her body into the craziest and bizarre positions. You were both used to this by now, having been on the unit for a few weeks. When you both arrived, you bonded straightaway as two newbies. “Go on Amita, don’t keep me hanging” you chuckled as the physio straightened your leg, huffing and puffing with exertion. “Apparently a celeb is being admitted today” she grinned. “have you read owt about anyone getting injured” you asked Amita was a social media whore, spending her time constantly in the celeb obsessed world. “That’s just it, no! It’s a total open call” she groaned as her arm was stretched backward.   
“I bet it’s a non celeb tho, like a love islander or other rubbish reality idiot” You groaned. Following the instructions of the physio you moved into a different position and grimaced as your arm was pushed out of your comfort zone. “That would still be epic” shouted Amita, now facing the other way “What if it’s some hotty male actor... like Ryan Gosling or Jamie Dornan?” she giggled. Amita had a thing for Jamie Dornan, ever since 50 shades. “Nah, not my type” you answered “ What about if it were Taron Egerton?” she chanced “ Shut up Amita” you shouted “ Stop giving away my cougar traits, he is too young I keep telling you” you flushed a little, glancing for the first time at the other adult in the room, currently performing intimate actions to the top of your thighs.  
Amita guffawed “Yeah, ok so why is it whenever we go to choose a movie, he seems to be the star” she laughed again, huffing and puffing. “You’re done Amita” the physio commented and moved away pulling the curtain around Amita to allow her to get herself back in her chair and settled. “You too” your physio Mike, added doing the same. You sat on the edge of the bed, your legs tingling as you gingerly moved across to the chair. The curtain was whipped back, “knowing our luck, it’ll be some dickhead soap star like Danny Dyer or some nobody” she grinned.  
Heading to your double room, you split from Amita. Despite not being the one to do the work, physio knackered you out, you were looking forward to a shower and a nap. Locking the door to the shared bathroom, you transferred wobbly to the chair, turning the water on. You began to clean as your mind ran back to your first days on the unit. Dignity all but gone as you lay in bed and had a nurse cleaning you, lifting and washing your breasts was bad enough. The nurse was thorough and not particularly gentle. The worst of all was wiping your back side and vagina. Tears were desperate to fall, but you had become numb since the accident.  
This indignity was secondary trauma. Unable to stand alone, pissing the bed when the bed pan wasn’t placed properly, then made to wear an adult nappy in case it happened again. Moving on to sitting on a commode, with just a flimsy curtain around you as you tried to open your bowels. You broke down now, it was just too much. You were reduced to being a child again and you hated it. You were the competent, independent adult. The one who took care of others, you took care of yourself and no one else did that. But now.  
Shaking your thoughts away, you heard noise outside the room, finishing your shower and drying quickly. You opened the door a crack. Although the room was a double, the other bed had been empty since you arrived, and you were used to making the move from bathroom to bed in just a towel. Your clothes sat prime on the end of your bed as you looked to the no longer empty bed to your own. A nurse thankfully pulled the curtain round your new roommate. And you made a quick wheel to the safety of your own. Seeing your predicament, the nurse came across and pulled your curtain too. She was Suzy, one of the more approachable of the staff nurses.   
She entered the curtain with you. “Just a heads up” she whispered “We don’t usually mix genders in the unit, but this is the only space we have, so I wanted to let you know, you’ll be sharing with a guy” she looked at you for an agreement of the situation. “Oh, right ok” you answered. Not really being bothered, but glad of the heads up. It was a small unit and it was unusual to have had the room to herself anyway, she thought.  
The nurse disappeared and you dressed, pulling back the curtain. You saw the curtain around the mystery man was pulled back, but only halfway. The side facing the door remained in place. He was laid facing the curtain and seemed to be sleeping. You found yourself watching his breathing as he slept and wondering about his story.   
You all had your story, usually it first came out in the daily therapy session. Amita had been hit by a car whilst out on the town, she had an incomplete spinal injury. She was paralysed from the waist down. It was during therapy that you learned more about the range of spinal injuries there were and the luck of the draw. One patient had survived his car being crushed and suffered partial leg paralysis only, whereas you. Well you simply fell over, you walked across the front room. The same as every other day. A little fast and in your slippers with the apparently non slip soles. In an instant, you saw the Ceiling appear, felt the gut-wrenching fear of, hitting the floor. Jumping up immediately rather than be stuck on the floor as the pain tore through you. You had begun by saying you were fine, until it became clear that you most certainly weren’t.  
As you lay in bed drifting off to sleep. You felt for the guy in the opposite bed, knowing what he must be dealing with, emotionally this was a nightmare you knew he was living.


	2. Chapter 2

Part Two  
“Group time” Suzy called into the room brightly, and you smiled in acknowledgement. Stretching, you pushed the sheet off and pulled yourself into the chair. Wheeling over to the mirror you, took the ponytail that had gone crooked and frizzy in your sleep out and re adjusted it into a messy bun. “Ahh fuck it” you groaned at your reflection. Like it matters in here you moaned loudly to Suzy as she moved toward the sleeping stranger.  
“Good Luck” you chuckled, remembering the trouble you gave the staff when they tried to get you into group when you arrived. Most new admissions followed a similar pattern, unless they we returners. Sam was a returner, she had MS and every so often as it progressed, she would be back in for a short while, until she managed to cope with her new deterioration of mobility. She was the third to your trio. But thankfully she was at home and hopefully in a respite period of the evil disease.  
JoJo was another returner; he too had a degenerative illness. Born with osteogenesis Imperfecta or OI. She was back and forth depending on the damage her recent injury had caused. Her bones were like glass and she had been a chair user from an incredibly young age, not because she couldn’t walk, but because it simply was too dangerous to do so. Physio was mainly water based for her, anything else was too much for her bones to cope with. She was much younger than your little trio and had been coming to the unit so often, that she was more ‘in’ with the staff than the patients, as the patients changed more often.  
Group was all but set up, Marley arrived with his knew walker and showing off his progress, Marley had fair case of Cerebral Palsy which affected his muscle tone and stability. He was nonverbal but made up for it by learning all the swear words in all types of sign language including Makaton, BSL and ASL. “Come on” Moaned ‘Rich’ Richard, the second newest admission, he was still in the resistant phase, much like the new guy. He had come off his motorbike, well over both the speed and alcohol limits. He thought he ruled the world, despite shattering his entire pelvis and both legs.  
“For Fucks sake Bill, can we just get this shit over with, I need a fag” he shouted again. “we’re waiting on one more” counsellor Bill called over to the group as he poured himself a coffee. He brought it over and placed it under his chair, placing his notebook on his chair. “Oh, great here we go” he said, and the group turned to see the new guy. “Welcome David, well done, well done that’s a great start” Bill cheered at the new guy was wheeled into the circle next to Amita.  
He was wearing a baseball cap and hoodie, the hood of which he had pulled right up so his face was barely visible. His arms were crossed and head down. “pssst do you think he had much choice” Amita laughed and you smiled “OK” coughed Bill. Starting the session as they always did with a round of “My story” It was a pointless exercise, as the group hadn’t changed much in the last week, you could probably do everyone’s for them, it would be much quicker. But it was apparently meant to help you to ‘Own’ your ‘story’ thus making it easier to come to terms with and chare with others.  
Everyone began and soon it was the newbie’s turn. He coughed ‘Dave’, Spinal fractures to all lumber vertebrae partial tear at L1, compound fractures of both legs and shattered right hip. He mumbled. “And what happened Dave, how did the injury occur” Bill drew out his story, “Stunt gone wrong” he said quickly. Amita and you shared glances, ‘Stunt’ Amita mouthed “He’s the celeb” she grinned. You smiled back. You felt bad for Dave, remembering how much you just wanted to curl up and hide away, pretend it wasn’t happening. This had been torturing for you too, but as you sat there, you felt glad you had done so.  
“Would you like to elaborate Dave?” Bill asked and Dave shook his head, he stared at his hands and began to fiddle with a piece of blue tack in his hands. The group moved on to the activity of the day, which was to split into twos. With your partner, you had to write a list of things that brought up strong feelings about your current level of ability. “Differently Able” was the buzz word they used, rather than disabled, which was now faux pa.  
Amita and you turned to each other grinning, y/n I think you and Amita have been partners now a fair few time, how about y/n and Dave you go together and Amita you and Rich partner up this time. Amita groaned but moved to Rich and you turned to Dave. Pen and paper in hand you positioned you chair facing his. Drawing a line down the centre, you wrote his name above one column and yours at the top of the other, drawing a squiggly line underneath.   
“Do you want me to start?” you asked “If you want” Dave said softly. You began by writing a list of different emotions down the columns, leaving space under each. “It’s easier to cover all these this way and should mean Bill won’t moan that we haven’t considered more than anger and frustration” you said tapping the paper with your pen. “Basically, just think up an answer as to why you feel each one in relation to what’s happened” you sighed beginning to fill in your column. “What’s the point?” Dave said eventually “Is this going to make me walk again?” he grumbled quietly. You put your pen down. “How long ago was the accident?” you asked, “week and a half” he answered “why?” “well, mine was 6 months ago, but I was where you were a week after, trust me and I know you don’t want to hear it, but it won’t always feel like this” you tried to reassure Dave, recognising so much of yourself in his demeanour.   
“And this” you said again tapping the paper “believe it or not does help. If you want to get back walking then your head needs to be right, you will get it when you start physio, anger and resentment only get you so far” you told him kindly “I mean look at Rich” you both turned and saw Amita with steam coming from her ears as Rich swung his chair back and forth dangerously. “He could be out of that by now, but he’s still refusing to face his own responsibility in the accident. As you turned your attention back to the paper, you noticed Dave was no longer staring down at his hands, A flash of green blue in his eyes took your breath for a moment. They were stunning, sad and mournful, but utterly beautiful and familiar.  
Moving back to the paper, Dave’s head lowered again. Having completed the assignment and the session. You moved off to the food hall to eat. Dave collecting a tray and headed back to the room you shared. “So, so who is he?” Amita begged as soon as she reached you “I don’t know, he is familiar, but he doesn’t make it easy to see his face. “Urgh, we need a plan to get that hoodie off him so we can get a proper look” she said planning already. Munching on your food and chatting Amita continued with her questions about the new guy “well you spoke to him so is he English or what? Did he have an accent? What about his skin colour? What did he write in the assignment? Any clues?” nearly choking on your mashed potato you laughed “Amita Jesus you should work for MI5, bloody hell” “Nah I want to be an investigative reporter, celeb scandals and all that” she grinned.  
You could always rely on Amita to cheer you up, even when she first came onto the unit. She was the one cracking macabre joke and using gallows humour in sessions with Bill. “Amita he’s hardly going anywhere, we will find out soon enough, leave the poor guy alone, he’s one of us now, after all” you sighed, seeing your wheels in the window. “He’s got a long way to go, don’t think he will appreciate being the subject of your ‘investigations’” you warned here. She too looked at her wheels in the window and then to you “Yeah ok, I will leave off. Besides did you see what that Meghan Markel said now” you laughed and listened to Amita, but in your mind, you tried to place those eyes, and the voice. It really was all so familiar. But Dave, David… it was all still a bit curious.


	3. Chapter 3

Part Three  
Black out on the ward at 10:30pm as usual, raised a groan from the patients. Your room mate Dave looked at you confused, seeing his outline as your eyes got used to the dark. “Lights out at 10:30pm every night” you confirmed “To be honest, as they wake you at 6am coming on shift, it’s probably wise to get your head down early” you smiled then realised he wouldn’t be able to see you. “Great” he huffed putting down his book and trying to move to get in his chair. “Whoa” you called out “do you need someone to help you? Have you done that on your won yet?” you called over. “I am fine” he growled “I can do it” he huffed.   
But despite his harsh words, you heard a whimper of desperation and disappointment, as he had to admit defeat. You pressed your call button and a male nurse appeared, “What’s up” swallowing you gestured to Dave “He needs help transferring” you said. “Alright mate, I’m Kevin, listen if you need anything, don’t be afraid to ring the bell, that’s what we are here for” he laughed. “I wanted to it myself” he growled again “One step at a time, mate ok” said Kevin. “What are you wanting to do?” Kevin asked “I need the bathroom” he sighed then dropping his voice “Well I did, it’s err too late now” his head dropped and you felt his embarrassment. Laying on your side, facing away you pretended not to hear.  
But your heart ached for him, another one of the clubs. You sighed. Surely there was a better fucking way for this to go, why did losing your physical abilities always mean losing your dignity too. You found yourself crying again, every night this week you had cried yourself to sleep. You knew it was all part of the grieving process, but you had never been a crier previously and this was all pretty disconcerting. It was made all the worse by having another person present.   
You buried you head in the pillow, hoping to dull the sounds of your sobs. After a while they subsided, and you began to fall asleep. “Thank you for calling the nurse” Dave called out to you, “ That’s okay” you whispered back, feeling heavy and ready to sleep “ Are you ok?” he asked “you were crying, I didn’t know if you needed me to call for you?” he said “I’m fine, thank you though, and no don’t worry I just need to get it all out Dave. We all do or it’s like a cancer, it will destroy you, if you let it” you replied yawning there was silence for while then quietly you heard him again “ Goodnight y/n” “Night Dave” you replied.  
\--  
As predicted the noisy day staff, clattered their way on to the ward at 6:30 am. Ignoring the 20 or so residents all deeply sleeping. They gossiped and giggled loudly before going into the staff room for handover. 7am hit and the blinding lights blast across the unit, waking anyone silly enough to try and go back to sleep after being rudely awoken. The staff room door opened, and staff poured out, loudly saying goodbye to their colleagues. Support staff began their cleaning, clattering and banging metal bins and pushing huge mops under your bed. While nurses bullied you into a chair to eat, while they changed your sheets. Sat half dead, propped in the chair, you ate the cold toast and lumpy porridge. As a nurse plonked towels and washing items on the bed. “You are having a wash?” they’d ask as if it was a choice.  
Sat without your glasses, you groaned. “Told you” you called over to Dave, who was now in a set of hospital scrubs, no hoodie in sight. You reached for your glasses but they were on the other side of the bed. Sorry Amita, you will have to wait for his identification you chuckled “what’s funny?” Dave asked “Other than the state of this breakfast” he groaned pushing his tray table away. “Nothing” you replied “Do you want the shower first or second?” you asked he hadn’t been made to get out into the chair this morning, but you knew he wouldn’t escape the wash. “I’ll have one later” he said “You go for it” he rolled over and looked to be heading back to sleep “Good luck with that” you called out and he turned “Why?” the staff will want you washed before physio and after” you answered “So what if I refuse?” he asked “You will be reminded and asked by every staff member every 2 minutes, until they break you down” you replied. “Fucking hell, this place is like prison” he groaned pushing himself up the bed wincing with pain. “Been to prison have you” you chuckled “No, but I reckon it’s got to be better than this” he smiled.   
Even without your glasses, you could see that and you were pleased to see a more positive face on him. “what about meds?” he asked “Oh stupidly they come round AFTER you have washed and so you have to exhort yourself without adequate pain relief, make no sense and I’ve complained a number of times” you stopped yourself, you sounded like a proper ‘Karen’ and decided to focus on the porridge in front of you.  
Once washed and dressed you made yourself comfortable waiting for meds and the call to physio. You flipped through the magazine Amita had given you, it had barely any written sections, the majority was adverts and massive celeb pictures. Dave had taken your advice and was in the shower, he had to have Mike, one of the stronger male auxiliaries help and you were mortified for him. Reliving your own miserable experience. As you flicked through you came across an article about Taron Egerton. Amita had been right about the crush this particular actor had you under. “Taron Egerton in Stunt gone wrong” you read. Looking across at Dave’s empty bed, you held your breath. Reading it again, you looked at the pictures. There were the normal older shots from press, but at the top were two grainy shots of him being put not the ambulance, he was wearing a baseball cap and grey hoodie.  
Looking at the bathroom door, it creaked open. Turning the page, your heart began to pound as Taron was wheeled out of the bathroom, he was in his own clothes now rather than the scrubs, no hoodie or cap though. It all fell into place, as you looked at him, he smiled. “You okay?” he asked “You look like you’ve seen a ghost” you chuckled taking a deep breath hoping you hadn’t turned red “a unicorn maybe?” you smiled, turning back to the magazine.


	4. Chapter 4

Part Four  
<<<< Amita help SOS>>>>   
<<<< What’s up doll?>>>>  
<<<<< The celeb, I know who he is!!!!>>>>  
<<<<< WHO????>>>>  
You attached the screenshot you took of the magazine article. Waiting for the reply, you transferred into you chair and waited. Taron or Dave’s curtain was pulled around his bed as the nurse gave him his meds and the doctor did his rounds. After what seemed like an age Amita appeared in the doorway, “Damn its y/n I was just out of the shower, so come on garden…” she grinned. Glancing at the curtain around the bed.   
Once you were out in the freedom of the garden, you wheelied back and forth, biting your lip. “What the hell am I going to do Amita, I mean this is not joke now” Amita was in fits of giggles, loving the way you squirmed and stressed. “Babe, what is there to do?” she laughed “I mean what’s the big deal?” biting the inside of your cheek, you groaned “ Ameeet, it’s so not funny, I can’t do this with the ‘real’ him around, you don’t understand Amita” you looked sadly and Amita began to realise that you were not just fangirling over Taron.   
“Oh, babe. You actually really ‘REALLY’ like HIM don’t you?, but you don’t even know him, not the real him” she tried to reassure you “That’s the problem, I’ve kind of created this whole person in my head and what if he’s not like that, they say you should never meet your idols” she sighed “Hey, dude he’s just a guy, you know like all the others” she could see that you were now tying yourself up in knots.  
“I can’t explain it Amita, but think about the person closest to you, the person that means everything to you, then they turn up, in here, when your like this” you burst into tears. Amita pulled you toward her and hugged your shoulder. “Babe, it’s ok. You just must treat him as Dave, and see what happens, stop with the what if’s” She stroked your hair as you wiped your eyes.  
“Amita, we have to get rid of my DVD library” you groaned, making her laugh. “What about all that fanfic stuff you have saved on your laptop. “Oh, hells bells” you whimpered burying your head. “It couldn’t be Ryan fucking Gosling could it” you mumbled.  
From the other side of the hedge, Taron (Dave) smiled. He hadn’t meant to overhear, he had stormed out to the garden, when the doctors had refused to listen. He didn’t want to hear “nothing more we can do” or “No further treatment” so grabbing his book, he’d run. When the girls appeared laughing and giggling, he meant to move or at least alert them to his existence. But when he heard you mention his name, his real one and not the alias he was using, he became frozen to the spot.  
He hadn’t thought much about the girl he was sharing with; she had been kind to him and seemed genuine. He thought about her crying the previous night and had spent a while wondering if he should try and talk to her, he hated that he couldn’t just go over to her, he would have done before. But now his body was against him. He puffed on his cigarette as he thought about what she had said about him. Weirdly he found he did understand where she was coming from, even though he wasn’t sure he had ever felt quite the same strength of emotion towards any of his own heroes. Then he remembered meeting Joanie Mitchell and taking a deep breath, he nodded to himself.   
Sharing a room with y/n was going to be more fascinating than he first thought. He was at first worried the girls would expose his secret, but they seemed cool and his worries were lessened when Amita had mentioned treating him like ‘Dave’. The last thing he needed now, was any of that nonsense. He didn’t want to be Taron Egerton right now.


	5. Chapter 5

Part Five  
Physio was gruelling that day, you found it incredibly hard to concentrate on what you were doing, and your therapist was becoming fed up. “Where are you today y/n? What is it? It’s like you you’re hypervigilant or something? Come on focus”. You groaned as you raised your knee into the position and held it, breathing through the pain and pushing all your stress and anxiety into the energy you needed. Changing leg, you rolled to your left and were confronted by ‘Dave’.  
The unit generally ran the same every day other than Sundays. The day began with early wake up, breakfast and shower. Then Physio with a break for lunch, followed by two or three hours of free time, then group. Saturdays was individual talking therapy with your lead psychiatrist and usually this was when you looked at your progress and made goals going forward, both mentally and physically. Sundays was for visiting and or free time, some went home for the day and others just had friends or family come to the unit. Visiting was allowed during the week but discouraged as the powers that be had decided that it disturbed, your progress to continually be reminded of home, the was often more relaxed the closer to discharge you got.  
So, here you were sweaty and red in the face, Your knee in your face and all your chins on show. Inwardly you groaned. Dave however seemed to have lightened up, maybe for him the physical exertion was helpful. You had seen it with the guys, they seemed able to get something, frustration or inspiration from the exertion. Maybe it gave them a sense of achievement to feel that they had still got control over their own bodies. God knows you certainly felt that loss keenly.  
You felt utterly betrayed not only by your body, but your mind and the universe. You had discovered new depths of hopelessness’ when you first were told that you would never regain the function you previously had and were forced to accept that you now had limitations placed upon you. Before the accident, you have wholeheartedly believed in the idea that you could do anything if you worked hard enough. But when a simple 2cm step prevented you from buying a pint of milk, your dreams were shattered.  
You were mostly an upbeat person and outwardly you were the positive, independent, no one and nothing’s going to stop me kind of person. But truly, it took a lot of self-talk and stubborn pig – headed attitude just to get through each day, along with a healthy dose of denial. Without meaning to, you found yourself staring at Dave, musing over the thoughts. Your eyes glazed over. Dave’s wide smile penetrated your stare, shaking yourself back to life, you smiled back sheepishly. Turning back to the therapist, who had apparently been asking you to change position.  
Moving to a kneeling position, you moved int cat pose. “Ok y/n when you’re ready you can head back, but try and repeat this a few times first, I’ll see you tomorrow and hopefully you will be with me in mind as well as body” he complained. You dropped your shoulders, feeling guilty at making the guys job harder, stretching out your back, felt great. You actually didn’t mind this particular position. It did your back and hips the world of good. It was getting back up after that was difficult.   
Turning your head in Dave’s direction, you winced. He was clearly feeling a lot of pain and fighting the physio, trying to do more than his body could handle. He was, you thought so early in his journey with this, still not really knowing much about how his injuries were particularly affecting him, you recognised similarities between your early days and him now. He turned his head, seeing you again looking his way, he closed his eyes. When they’re opened a renewed frustration showed as he pushed the physio off him and sat up “I need a break” he growled, grabbing his water bottle and chugging it.   
Dutifully, the physio back off. He was used to far worse from his clients. “How do you put up with it?” he grunted in your direction “Because you get to realise it’s the only way to get to the best ‘new’ you” you sighed “What if I don’t want a new me, I quite liked the old me and intend on getting him back” he huffed “What if the new you ends up being a better you than the old one?” you offered He was intrigued but not convinced “And a better you is stuck in one of these things is it?” he pushed his wheelchair.  
“Ta... “ you began “I mean ‘Dave’, this “ you said stroking your own chair, “ Is how I get to do all the things I want to do, no more no less” you affirmed “And I’m not stuck in it, I choose to use it” you added. “Even if I couldn’t walk at all or even if I was a T4 para, I still wouldn’t be ‘Stuck’ that’s a state of mind” you were feeling irritated, hating words like “confined” and ‘Bound’ being used to describe wheelchair users. You changed position, kneeling up. “I didn’t mean to upset or offend you” ‘Dave’ said guiltily. “You’re all good, listen you will get to know that in here we are all at different stages of dealing with our shit and those further on have been where you are, that’s why we share our stories. We all run the full gamut of emotion and no one takes offence around here, it’s the best place to let of steam.  
‘Dave’ nodded and gave you a small smile. “Thanks y/n” he said As you got into your chair “No problem” you replied “I’m nabbing the shower, so I reckon you ought to give the physio another go, I’ll see you later” you found yourself smiling, having forgotten all about the nonsense of who he was or wasn’t.  
Putting your phone up on a ledge, you blasted your favourite music out, while you showered. Ignoring the fact that the volume was ridiculously loud, you bopped and sang along as you cleaned off. Enjoying the cool water and the privacy. As you finished up and got dressed in the shower room, you decided to add a little mascara. It had been a long time, since you had bothered, but maybe it was time to start teasing that woman in you back out.


	6. Chapter 6

Part 6  
Amita was waiting with an empty chair at group, she had been called to something during physio and was clearly dying to share. “Ok come on you have ants in your pants, spit it out” you said “I’m free” she trilled. You heart dropped “you’re being discharged? When? I mean omg Amita that’s amazing” you did all you could to hide your devastation. It had been Amita that buoyed you when things were tough, who talked to you by phone when neither of you slept and now, she was going.  
But before you could talk more, Bill began the session. The usual round of ‘story’ went round, few had much to say. But Amita of course got a rousing cheer and happy shouts, you knew that your grin was false, but you did your best to fight the urge to run off and hide. You were thankfully paired with Amita for the activity and as Amita was going, the activity was one focussed on after the unit. The unit had been a place you resented and hated at the start, but now it was safety and solidarity. Home was lonely and isolated. It turned out that Amita was leaving on the Sunday coming, just 2 days away. A party would be had Saturday evening as always.  
You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling crying softly. When Taron made you jump, he had managed without making a sound, to get into his chair and get to your bed, he was now pulling himself up to sit next to you. You didn’t know how to react, as he suddenly hugged you. His arms were strong and safe, you didn’t mean to but, you couldn’t stop yourself. Strong, wracking sobs suddenly began and as Taron soothed you by rocking gently and cooing you couldn’t help but let go. As your body was done and the tears subsided. You pulled out of his arms.  
“I’m sorry y/n I just couldn’t spend another night, hearing you cry and do nothing” he said earnestly. In the semi darkness, you couldn’t see him well, you were glad as you probably looked a sight, you thought. “Thank you, I didn’t realise you could hear me” you admitted. “It’s no problem at all, are you ok? I mean I know you’re not ok, you’re in here but…” Taron babbled “What I mean is, is there anything I can do to help?” he asked. “One-way trip to dignitas?” you asked. Dignitas was the most well-known, assisted suicide centre in Europe and the only place for those who wanted helping to die. Taron frowned “Gallows humour?” he asked “I hope, it’s not that bad, is it?” you hadn’t meant to scare or worry Taron, but most of those on the unit had even if only fleetingly considered the choice not to carry on in their current state.  
“It’s complicated Taron” you replied. A smile spread across his face, “I wondered when you would forget and use my real name” he said. Covering your mouth you realised your mistake “omg” you replied “ It’s okay, I knew you had worked it out” he said “Thank you for keeping quiet about it” he added “none of my business. Taron” she said. “The alias is that to stop the press or ?” she asked “Well it started out for that reason, but I figured it stopped all the questions in here and everything” “I get that” “Thank you for the hug, I guess I needed that. I haven’t cried like that in decades” you admitted “wow bet you feel better now, and anytime” he replied.   
“I better get back, before someone finds me in your bed” he said cheekily “Now that would be quite the scandal that’s for sure” you laughed. “But seriously” he said, “anytime you need to talk or a hug, I’m right here ok?” He climbed awkwardly into bed. “I think you might sleep well now, crying is a good sleep aid” he said “Yeah, I know. Good night Dave” you called quietly across the room, emphasising the name. “Sweet Dreams y/n”


	7. Chapter 7

Part 7  
The party got underway, it was really just a few nibbles, pop and a bunch of compilation party hits CD’s on an old CD player. But it was a change to the norm, and you tried your best to be upbeat. You were gutted Amita was going, but knew it was selfish to want her to stay. After all you would be out of there like a shot given your chance. Although the appearance of Taron on the unit, was a massive positive. You would still miss the girly gossips, the late-night laughing fits and all that came with having a best friend right with you when you needed them.   
Of course, she was only at the end of the phone and could visit on Sundays if she wanted to. You bopped along to the 90’s classics and tried your best to forget your sadness. The whole unit was out of their rooms and it was a pretty full room, it was some time until you spotted Taron, arriving wearing a pair of denim shorts and a Hawaiian shirt. You felt your heartbeat fast, he looked incredibly good. Having made less of an effort, you had thrown on a pair of jeans and a bright blue top.   
For the first time, Taron looked like himself and you wondered if he was feeling more positive. You hoped so, it took time, but the initial shock did wear off and all the things as an able-bodied person scared you about disability, seemed less of a big deal. You became adept at thinking creatively when you needed to get things done, being now unable to do so in the traditional way. It gave you a buzz when you found a way to achieve something you thought would now be impossible.  
As you were thinking this, you became aware of the sensation that someone was looking at you and as you raised your eyes. They became locked with Taron’s, he smiled and headed toward you “Well this is my first unit party and I don’t know anyone else, so I’m gonna stick with you, if that’s ok” he grinned. Damn you, you thought. As the sparks ran through you, his dazzling smile making you hold your breath momentarily. “Fair enough” you smiled “But you know some of the others from group” you said. “Yeah, but I’ve not been in their bed” he said cheekily wondering if the risqué comment was a step to far.  
He was pleased when you laughed loudly, “That’s true” you smiled “You know y/n you should do that more” he said. Looking confused her clarified “Smile, you have a beautiful smile” his eyes twinkling. “Well I could say the same to you” you replied trying to stop the blushing that was now taking over your face. “You look more positive today anyway” you continued trying to move the conversation on.  
“Yeah a little” he admitted “It’s still hard, isn’t it?” You nodded empathetically. “It’s kind of a rollercoaster, well it is for me anyway” he looked into your eyes, paying so much attention to you, you again reminded yourself to breathe. “Getting out of those scrubs also helped, thankfully someone got me a bag of stuff, so I feel more me and less of a sick person” he said. “oh god yeah, when I was admitted I had nothing, I spent the first few days in one of those bloody gowns, that expose your arse to everyone” you groaned, Taron chuckled “yeah those are fun” he smiled.   
Tapping his hand on his knee in time with the song, he hummed under his breath. “So, am I the only one who knows your secret identity, or have you been spotted by anyone else?” you asked. Relaxing into the conversation, you were amazed at how easy it was and how comfortable you were, in such a short space of time.   
It wasn’t until Amita made you jump, suddenly appearing by you that you realised how little of the party you and Taron had gotten into. Having become enthralled in the conversation with Taron. Amita looked sad “Oh god, is it time for you to go already?” you groaned as Amita began to cry. Taron excused himself leaving you and Amita alone. Hugging her, you couldn’t stop yourself, as tears flowed down. “I will call, you and txt you all the time” Amita said “I know and I will see you around the physio anyway” you replied “You’ll be out soon, and by the way things looked before I came over I think ‘Dave’ will be more than a decent replacement for your unit buddy” she laughed “No way, you cannot be replaced Amita, we did this thing together and I will NEVER forget that” you sniffled not wanting to let go.   
Amita’s Dad was waiting, and you eventually had to let go. Waving goodbye, you sped back to your room, no longer wanting to be around people. Climbing into your bed, you buried your head in the pillow, releasing the emotion you were holding in. It wasn’t long before, you felt the depression on the bed as Taron, pulled himself behind you and pulled you into a hug. He didn’t say a word, just held you as you cried. His hand stroking yours.


	8. Chapter 8

Part 8  
You lay still, enjoying the warmth and motion as his body rose and fell behind you. It had been a shock when you first realised, he was there, but you found the comforting sensation of being held, was too good to fight it. “Is this ok” Taron whispered as you nodded. Turn on the stop so you were facing him. His eyes had been closed but they now opened as if asking and answering all the questions you both had, your eyes flicked to each other’s, smiling occasionally.  
“Thank you” you said bare audible. Taron shook his head, reaching forward he moved a stray strand of hair from your face. “oh” he groaned as his back complained over the movement. Without thinking you reached out and put your hand on top of his where he was rubbing at the painful spot. As your hands touched it was like an electric shock hit you, in fact it did. The static electricity from your hair along with the metal bed sent a static shock through your fingers. You pulled away in unison laughing. Breaking the sexual tension, you felt growing. He smiled down at you “Shocking” he joked “Cheesy?” he asked knowing full well it was.  
You nodded but smiled “Who doesn’t like a bit of cheese” you added, your hand moved back to the sore spot and slipped you hand up his shirt, pressing two fingers gently to the area you massaged the area. At first it hurt, and Taron gave out a gasp, but then a relieved groan as the manipulation began to soothe the area. Moving onto his stomach and pulling up his shirt to give better access, he closed his eyes. “You should work here” his voice was a little obscured by the pillows, but you got the gist. “No thanks, it’s bad enough being a patient” you replied.  
“so, when are you gonna tell us your whole story?” you asked “You’ve heard all of ours and just saying a stunt went wrong isn’t enough” you added. Taron turned his head to the side and stared into the distance. “I was thrown off a horse” he said “Fucking hated the bloody things, but I wanted to face the fear” You continued the massage but moved a little, letting Taron show you where else he needed the help. Listening quietly, you knew that how important it was now to just let him talk. He spoke about always having a fear of horses and how they always seemed to pick up on it.  
He had had it written into his contract after an earlier fall, that he would not ride any animal. But he had a scene where he was simply sat on one, it was already making him nervous and didn’t seem happy with him on its back at all. “It was exactly like before, that’s what was weird, it was de ja vu, as I did a somersault, I remember thinking this can’t turn out as well as it did before, not twice. The next thing he remembered was waking up in the intensive care, his Mam was visiting the set and saw it all happen. He said it was horrible for her to see what happened, but he was glad she was thereafter.   
He’d been in the intensive care for a week and a private ward for four days before coming here. The specialists were being frustratingly vague about is prognosis. But he knew he had permanent spinal damage. It was how that would affect him no one knew. His face grew red and angry as he spoke, clearly things were getting to him. He had clearly really gone through it. You stopped massaging and he turned over “Is that my lot?” he asked “My elbow isn’t up to anymore” you complained showing him your elbow and its limit range of motion. He ran his fingers around the elbow and lower arm. “Does it hurt?” he asked. “Sometimes, if I lay on it or move suddenly.  
Suddenly Taron holding on to your arm, pulled it moving your together as his lips hit yours making you hold your breath. Your eyes wide as he startled you, they closed as you fell into the kiss. His lips were soft, and a taste of peaches lingered as he moved back a short while “Sorry” he mumbled turning red “It’s okay” you answered. But Taron was already moving into his chair and despite calling after him, he sped out of the room. You sat on the bed confused and frozen, unsure what to do. You wish Amita was here.  
You climbed into your chair and followed Taron. There are few places he could have disappeared off to, so it didn’t take long to spot him at the bottom of the garden. You wheeled over and pulled up next to him. “Well that’s a new one on me?” you said quietly “I have been walked out on, but never had someone use wheels” you tried to joke. Taron was facing the floor, smoking a cigarette. “I’m sorry” he said still facing the floor. “I didn’t mean to mess with your head” he said. “Its okay Taron, really” you replied trying to look at him. He turned sideways his eyes flickered up to yours.  
“Taron, this place does stuff to you, you can be happy one minute and screaming the next” you smiled reassuringly. “Thank you for the hug, I needed that. Amita and I were admitted the same day and it’s bizarre she’s got discharged and I’m still here” you sighed. “Taron, you haven’t confused me, the kiss was lovely, but why did you run off?” “You might not be confused, but I am, and I didn’t mean to drag you into my nightmare” he closed his eyes, his cheeks were reddened. You place a hand on his knee “It’s forgotten already Taron, really. But can I ask you a favour? Talk to me, please” you bent your head down looking up at Taron with a smirk. A smile slowly appeared on his lips “Thank you” “What is there to say, my career, my life is over” he rolled his eyes and looked away. He looked to be fighting his emotions.   
“Tell me, how is it over?” you asked despite having an idea about his answer. You remembered the feeling of loss and anger when you were first told your damage was permanent. It had taken a lot of time to sink in and every little issue made you lash out in anger. Now it was Taron’s turn, “Come on how many disabled actors do you know, how many get the main roles the good ones, all those characters I dreamed I would play, I thought I would one day get to do, it’s all fucking gone, if I don’t get out of the fucking contraption” he spat, slapping the chair in anger.  
“Well have they told you that its permanent?” you asked “no” he shook his head “So then there is still everything to play for? Besides, even the experts are wrong sometimes. Worse case you are in the chair permanently, you work out a knew normal” you said “Sorry I know it sounds trite and cliché, but it’s true one step, one day at time” you smiled coyly as he nodded his head. “If It makes you feel better, we all feel like you do in here, we’ve all lost something and find it hard to see the end of the tunnel, if anyone understands what your feeling and thinking, its all of us” you finished.  
“Why do you cry at night?” Taron asked suddenly, taking you by surprise. Blinking quickly, you looked at him, his eyes were caring and genuine. “Because I’m alone, lonely” you struggled to speak. Hating to talk about this, you were fine talking about the accident and its emotional affect on you. But the way it highlighted your complete lack of friends or family was the hardest. Taron looked confused but didn’t press you further. Hearing your voice breaking as you had spoken. “Your hugs are pretty good treatment for that particular problem” you told him, and his smile spread further across his face.  
“Then as long as you need one, I’m here” he told her.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9  
Today was review day, the unit was tick with anticipation, as everyone prepared for bad and hoped for good news. You sat at breakfast thinking deeply about the next step in your journey. You had an idea what was going to happen, it would be a decision to take a harder road to walking fully or accepting that the chair was always gonna be part of your life. There were no guarantees the first road wouldn’t simply end in the same place as the second.   
You had been considering it for some time and still hadn’t settled either way. “you have picked up that cold slice of toast and put it down three times now, did you know?” Taron chuckled lightly “hmmm” you replied. Taron knocked his fist against your temple “Hey y/n anyone at home?” he teased. Your eyes fluttered for a moment. You smiled at Taron, “Sorry” looking at the plate you pushed it back on the table. “What were you saying?” Taron could see that you were still a little distracted and tilted his head slightly “What’s on your mind? I can see the cogs turning?” he asked, he was holding a mug of tea and sipped it lightly. “It’s review day” you sighed “I guess everyone feels a bit apprehensive today” you offered. Taron nodded and returned to his tea.  
“So, do you want to hang out in our room after then? Celebrate or commiserate together” he asked seeing you so distant was different and unsettling. Since he had arrived, yes, he had seen you crying and vulnerable alone at night. But otherwise you were the go getting, proactive one who had really helped him feel at home on the unit and even though he had only been there a week, he thought of you as the one who pretty much had it all together and it rattled him to see your anxiety. He watched the room, realising the same feeling was emanating from many of the patients and began to wonder what his review would have in store.   
“Y/N please come in” the lead therapist said as you moved into the room. As the professionals spoke to you in doctor speak, you heard some of what was said. “I need to walk” you blurted out. “I don’t care what it takes I will do it; now can I go?” you asked. The medical team in front of you were surprised by the outburst, but nodded “That’s fine, we will begin to increase the physical therapy and add in the hydrotherapy for twice a week, I can see that you have been taking time to think it all through” he finished.   
When you returned to the room, Taron was sat already in the chair next to your bed. Seeing him made you stop your heart was racing. Without saying a word, you turned the chair around and headed out of the room. Taron put his book down and began to follow you. As he left the room, he saw you disappear around a corner and quickly moved to catch up. Turning the corner himself. Time slowed and the world seemed to move into slow motion as he watched you. Watch the glass window as you went through it and as the chair dropped leaving the edge of the building and down to the concrete a floor below.

Refusing to listen to anyone, Taron sat smoking outside the building. He was waiting for his phone to ring, for a member of staff. Anyone to tell him what was happening. Staff had pulled him back from the shattered glass that surrounded the now open window, as they rushed to the situation. Still Taron had an image planted in his mind now. One he wanted to forget, but one that remained firmly facing him. This was his third cigarette in a row, and he hated waiting, hated hospital policies that because he wasn’t ‘family’ prohibited him from being told anything.   
Deena another patient rolled into the garden. She was a returner, with a degenerative condition Ehlers – Danlos. She looked around and then at Taron. Indicating to him to come nearer. She handed him a folded piece of paper and quickly disappeared. Written on it in scrawled writing were a short message a telephone number for Amita. The message read ‘y/n in critical but stable condition, in intensive care, this is her 2nd suicide attempt on unit, likely to be off unit for weeks’ It wasn’t signed. Taron took the number and added to his contacts, he tapped a quick text out saying it was him and that he’d been given her number. He received a response from Amita straight away. <<<< note was from me, I know her sister, she’s keeping me updated and I can let you know what she tells me>>>  
He thanked her and dropping the cigarette butt on the floor he rolled over it to put it out as he headed back to the room. Climbing into his bed, he stared across at y/n’s bed. He couldn’t understand what had happened. ‘what on earth had happened in her review?’. The reviews had been postponed until Monday as a result of the ‘Incident’ as reports and safety checks now needed to be done, the area was cordoned off. Taron got back into the chair and wheeled himself over to the bed, he had been sat next to when y/n had returned from the review. He didn’t want to snoop, but he wanted an answer to the endless why? In his head.   
He felt the throw she had laid on the end of her bed, it was soft and pink. The smell of her perfume was strongly emanating from it. As he took his hand away, his watch caught on the fabric and he accidentally pulled a hole in the throw. As he tried to unlatch his watch from the thread a book dropped out of the blanket and landed opened on the floor. Groaning at his clumsiness he reached down and picked it up. As he did so, a nurse entered the room. “Erm what are you doing? This isn’t you bed?” she asked Taron rudely. “Err no y/n is a friend I was … never mind” he said hiding the book behind his back he rolled over to his own bed “Is there any news on her?” he asked as he slipped the book under his pillow.   
The Nurse scowled, pulling open her drawers and rooting in them, looking for something “Its confidential” she said sharply. Huffing in frustration she left empty handed. Taron checked he was alone and pulled out what he could now see was clearly her diary. Was this what the nurses was looking for? Surely, they weren’t going to read her private thoughts. He was dismayed but couldn’t think what else could explain the nurse’s behaviour. He stroked the front cover and returned it to the space under his pillow. Glad he had taken it and kept it safe.  
As he lay on the bed, his eyes fighting to stay awake. He couldn’t bare to close them, the repetitive image of her going straight through the glass and her prone position on the ground, were too much. He was exhausted, worried and had so many questions.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10  
Taron tossed and turned in bed that night, he slept for short naps but woke with the same image in his head. He looked at his phone it was 03.15am and as he looked across the room to the empty bed. He sighed and sat up. As he did the diary slipped out from under the pillow and down the bed. He picked it up and turned it over in his hand. It was blue satin covered book, with diary written in silver script on the cover. As he wondered what secrets it held and considered whether he should read it and maybe find a way to help his friend, he fought with the idea of betraying her privacy. He shook his head and lifted his pillow putting it back, as he did a slip of paper fell from the book.   
Picking it up he realised it was a bunch of short poems, without thinking he read them. The date at the top was the day before the review and he noticed a time was even added to the date 02.10am.  
Like a penny dropped in an arcade machine,  
We know not where we fall  
Do we land among the pile of pennies?  
Or out there on the edge  
Looking at the drop, the place where we will land  
Can we see the end of our journey?  
This life made out of luck  
Without control or choices  
Of where we end up.  
==============================  
Mother Earth, you created me,  
You chose the place in this world for me,  
You chose the journey of life for me  
Only you can answer me

Why did you make the choices you made?  
What in me did you create?  
Why was I the chosen for the litany?  
Of challenges you laid in front of me.

Balance that life with good and with bad,  
Why then is this, mine created only with bad and with bad   
I have drown in so many tears the spring is forever dry  
No longer are there tears to cry

Was is some kind of sense of humour I simply don’t get?  
Were you and death using my life in a bet?  
Was I an experiment?  
Tell me the result and who won?

Was the aim of this to see me undone?  
To unravel my soul and see my bones?  
The barest humanity laid bare for your fun  
Congratulations to the winner,  
As Taron finished reading the poems, he found himself determined to get in to see you. He climbed into his chair and rolled over to your bed, he easily found paper and pens, your drawers full of various stationary, made him smile. He rolled back to his own bed, in case he was spotted and began to write a letter, something he could get to you, if he physically couldn’t. He sat and screwed up page after page. Growing more and more frustrated. He sighed and instead of thinking to hard he simply wrote.  
Y/n I don’t pretend to understand, but as I sit here, I know   
I need you to hear me. To hold on for me, to not let go. I cannot  
Claim to know what hurts you, what pulls you down.  
I understand and know hopelessness, I know anxiety and fear.   
You have been there for me, when I was just a stranger.   
Maybe we are strangers still. But let this stranger be there for you.   
I will help you out of the tunnel you feel trapped in,  
I will pull you out of the hole, the darkness is temporary.   
You are not alone, and I need you to fight,  
if you feel you have no energy left use mine, do whatever you need to do,   
take what you need from me. Come back!  
T   
Taron checked the corridor, it was empty, so he wheeled quietly as possible out the double doors and across the car park to the main hospital building. It was almost empty, but for a few people milling about. A pregnant mother and her partner were pacing near the maternity entrance and Taron thought about new life. Feeling sentimental he chose to see it as a hopeful sign and pressed on. Following the signs to intensive care, he finally arrived. Not having thought through what he was going to do, and not expecting to actually have made it this far. He was flummoxed. It was then the automatic double door opened and a young woman walked out, her arm around a frailer, older woman. Using the opportunity, he darted through the open door.  
The intensive care had just 8 beds and all were occupied. Most patients were connected to numerous machines, laid flat in their beds in the darkened room. It was impossible from a distance to make you out. As Taron looked desperately around for a name tag of some kind, he finally spotted your name and quietly made his way over.  
You were laid flat, a number of wires rain from different parts of your body and the results beeped on the monitor. Heart rate, blood sugar, oxygen levels. Taron was sad to see the litter of varied cuts and bruising that covered your body. Your right arm in a cast. The side of your head had been shaved and he could see a newly sutured line in the area where your short, pink hair was once. You stirred a little, opening your eyes. Blinking in the dark, your vision zoned in on someone’s face.  
You must have been dreaming you thought as you recognised Taron. He smiled sadly at you and held your fingers in his hand, avoiding the cannula in the back of it. “I had to see that you were ok, for myself” he whispered. “I am dreaming” you whispered back, making Taron chuckle. “You’re doped up, but no I’m here”. You felt your heart race and the monitor registered the change, causing it to beep. “Fuck” you groaned. Realising the machine was giving you away. Taron felt his stomach flip, when he too understood.  
“I have your diary, I’ve not read it, but I think the nurses were after it, so I kept it safe” he told you. “Thank you for keeping it safe, I don’t need everyone reading that” you groaned as your eyes felt heavy. “How are you feeling? Or is that a stupid question” he asked. You looked at Taron, confused by his presence still “I am doing well” you rolled your eyes as if frustrated to still be here and not done the job you had hoped for. “I know you’re not happy about that y/n, but I am” he said firmly. You couldn’t work it out, looking into his eyes he seemed to be saying he cared, but he didn’t even know you and well no one really cared, not about you. It was all very confusing.  
Taron didn’t want to overwhelm you, so he looked around and kissed your hand gently. Placing the note into it. “I’m going to let you rest” he said You scrunched your face up as you lifted up the piece of paper. He put his hand on yours and laid it back down “Read it later” he said still checking around for nurses. He knew he didn’t have much time, or he’d get caught. “I’ll come back at visiting ok?” he smiled, his eyes sparkling. You managed to nod and watched him go.  
Looking at the paper in your hand, it was too dark to read in this light and you couldn’t turn a light on without attracting attention. The note would have to wait til morning.


	11. Chapter 11

Part 11  
Taron finally managed to sleep, when he successfully got back to bed. He had evaded all the unit staff and seemed to have avoided anyone noticing his absence. He woke as usual with the noise of the place coming to life and stretched. In the kerfuffle her forgot to collect the diary from under his pillow and was mid-way through his shower, when it dawned on him. The Staff changed the sheets daily. He sped up and rushed out of the bathroom at his top speed, which was far slower than he needed to be. He rolled over to the clean and impeccably dressed bed. Reaching under the pillows that were now neatly tucked under the tight sheet. His hand landed on the satin block and he exhaled deeply. Pulling the book out he held it to his chest. He chided himself for not finding a more secure place for it and wrapping it in one of his tops, he placed it into his drawer.  
It was then he heard a noise from across the room and saw someone turn slightly in the bed. At first, his heart dropped thinking your bed space had been given to someone else. But when he saw the sparkly, green blue hue of your toenails, he smiled and instantly rolled his way to the side of the bed. You were sleeping soundly, your thumb in your mouth and index finger curved over your nose. A small smile played on your lips as your dreamed. Taron too smiled and stroked your forehead, watching you sleep. His eyes took in the cuts, he assumed the glass had made to your skin. His fingers ran over them as he thought about what could have made you feel you had to take such drastic action.   
Somewhere someone shouted that physio had begun and Taron headed off to the gym. As he stretched, he focussed his thoughts. He visualised the heaviest stunts, the hardest physical work he was used to. This was the target; he was going to get back to doing this and more. His face was firm and set as he pushed the bar with his feet. His trainer watching from the side, was used to patients forcing themselves to attain a level above their capabilities and knew it was a lesson Taron needed to learn alone. He needs to understand his body had changed and know its new limits. But when Taron suddenly shot out a scream in pain, the physio called a halt. “Enough Dave” he said turning Taron’s ankle he saw in was already puffing up.   
Finding a cold compress, he sent Taron back to bed to rest, ice, compress and elevate the ankle. It looked like a pulled muscle but pushing too far was only going to slow his progress. Taron heard the words and he knew the logic. But the need to get back to ‘normal’ was too strong. The need to not seem weak or vulnerable right now was over-riding.  
As he lay on the bed with his hands behind his head and leg raised, he glanced across at your bed. You were still sleeping and though Taron knew if you needed anything it was rest, he still ached to talk to you, to understand and know more. He closed his eyes.  
Your lips were soft and as they hit his, he felt a shiver run through him. His stomach tightened and he felt dizzy. Using all he had in him his let his lips talk for him, running his top lip gently against yours, as they parted, he caught it between his teeth lightly. Dipping his tongue into your mouth and finding yours. He moved in time with you, every touch of skin to skin, lip to lip sparking your senses and sending your emotions into overdrive. Feeling his light breath on your face as his eyes opened and you felt as if you were falling into them. Unable to help yourself, the world faded into nothingness and all you could do is let him take you. Your body so stiff and buzzing, he held your arms with his hands as if to keep you from leaving, but how could you leave. This is heaven, you thought. I must be dead.  
Opening your eyes, you saw the same eyes from across the room. They smiled back at you and you moved a little hiding the blushing feeling. Damn though, it was one hell of a dream, you thought. When you were sure the colouring had faded, you moved again to a position where you could talk to Taron. Seeing his ankle, you scowled, raising an eyebrow. Both now stuck in bed, neither could reach the other. “I went a bit crazy in physio” Taron explained “I’m glad you’re back” he said it so genuinely that it made you swallow hard, images of the dream running through your mind. Not knowing how to respond you nodded.   
Ignoring instructions, Taron lifted his ankle and climbed into his chair. Grimacing at the pain that coursed through his ankle and up his calf. He pulled the book from his T-shirt and rolled over to you. Handing you the diary, “I didn’t read it” he said as you took it and pushed it into your top drawer. Nodding again. The shame of Taron seeing you push yourself through the window and what he must have seen after, left you unable to know what to say. It felt easier to just not say anything. But your silence was worrying him, he knew so little about you he realised, but the one over riding thing he had seen was how articulate you were, to see you silent felt wrong.  
He put his hand on top of yours, looking into your eyes. Just like in the dream, you felt yourself falling. Who was this guy?


	12. Chapter 12

Part 12  
Taron sat looking watching the workmen fixing the broken window, he was transfixed. His review had finally happened, and the news wasn’t good. The words echoed in his head as he stared ahead. He now understood what made you run through the glass, if it had been there still, he too would have followed right now. But images of his friends and family, held him in place. Images of your battered body too. You saw him from a distance, having seen him being called in. You tried to stay close, knowing he would need someone no matter how positive the results.  
Rolling over, as best you could with the cast on your arm. You tapped your wheels against his, to let him know you were there. Not wanting to startle him. His head turned and his broke from his daydream. “Hey” he said quietly a fake smile appearing as he wheeled around to face you. “Seeing through, you suggested the two of you head to your room for some privacy. He nodded.  
You stopped by his bed and without a second thought, crawled up on to the end leaving room for him. He climbed up the other end and sat quiet. “That bad?” you asked allowing the silence to be broken. “I don’t want to feel sorry for myself y/n” he said avoiding eye contact. “Hey, it’s not feeling sorry for yourself, to feel fucking shit Taron” you sounded cross, but it was at the way people were forced to feel guilt over normal reaction to this shit. “What exactly did they say?” you say. Taron raises his eyes for a second, before muttering that his hip needs replacing and even with replacement, he will never be back to his pre injured self. He waits for the shock or feigned sadness from you but is surprised by the reaction.  
“And that’s it yeah” you say looking down at your own body. He feels suddenly guilty, not even being aware of how your disability affects you. He feels terrible now for failing to pay attention to anyone else in ‘group’ he looks around the unit and it’s like reality hits him. He now see’s everyone. Each with their own personal struggle. He looks at Sam, back on the unit after a week at home, she now begun to lose the sight in her right eye and her left leg is no longer moving to the degree it was a week ago. She is fighting her body for every inch of movement; she has three young children. She needs to be around and capable of caring for them. Marley and JoJo are joking in the main room, whilst playing board games JoJo pulls out twister and the two bursts into laugher. It makes Taron laugh too.  
He realises that he has kept himself out of a group of people he should have taken the time for. You watch his gaze as it travels, understanding his realisation. One you too had to have as part of your own journey, from inner selfishness to understanding your place in the world didn’t disappear when the body you were given fails. He dropped his eyes, ashamed. But you smile and lift his chin moving nearer. “Hey” you say looking into those sweet, green-blue eyes “One step at a time, we are all just working on one step at a time” she had chosen her words deliberately. He looked at her and was grateful for her company and her friendship.  
“I’m sorry, I never paid attention to anyone else, I don’t even know what’s going on with you?” he said reddening “Tell me?” he said looking firmly into your eyes. “I walked across a room Taron” you answered, and he looked at you, he felt the pain. “I just walked across a room” you swallowed. This being your protection, humour. The reality was that is made you furious, that such a simple and normal action, one people all over the world do every few seconds. Something you couldn’t now do.   
“Then…” he said. You stopped; your tactic was shock. No one had pressed passed the ‘I walked across a room comment’ it was enough for people to stop, usually. You swallowed, looking at him and before you were able to stop them, the words tumbled out. “I fell, I landed flat on my back” you said. He nodded, listening intently. “They said I squashed 3 bones into the space of one, my spinal cord was running through them” You dropped your head, running your hand along your legs.   
“I started out in a brace, thought I’d be better in 6 weeks” you continued to describe the journey to the unit and how you had come to today. Taron reached forward and placed his hand on top of yours. Saying nothing, his eyes were sorrowful. “That’s fucked up” he smiled breaking the tension you laughed. Nodding, he moved closer and pulled you into a hug. Your head rested on his shoulder; it had been so long since someone held you. Taron felt your body relax into his and he knew how badly you felt the need for his comfort. His hand rested on top of the area of your original injury. He was careful not to hurt you, acutely aware of the newer ones. “So, what happened the other day?” he whispered as he looked over your shoulder.   
He felt you stiffen momentarily but was glad to feel you relax again. “I told the medics I would fight to walk again” you said softly. He moved back and looked at you “Ok” he was a little confused. “But I can’t do it, I am not strong enough” you stared at a section of folded material on Taron’s jumper as you spoke, unable to look at him. “I think after all of what you told me, you are more than strong enough, what are you scared of?” you shot a look at him. As if he had cut right through to the truth, Taron had got to the core of you.  
“Leaving here, I guess” you admitted “The real world” you said softly. You sat in silence for a while, Taron pulled you back into a hug and laid the pair of you out onto the bed. You laid you head on his chest. Feeling his heart beating as fast and strong as yours. “I think that’s normal y/n, we are all safe in here, away from the world. But you have to try, it might not be as bad as you think” Taron offered after a while. “I know I seem strong and in control Taron, but I’m like a swan, my feet are padding like mad underneath” you replied. “That’s all of us, though isn’t it”  
“I’m sorry about your hip” you said, Taron nodded. “I know exactly how you feel about leaving, imagine being up there in front of the world, a cripple” he sounded as angry as you had. “But Taron, you have an opportunity now, I know it’s not one you wanted, but maybe you could show the world, our world, make the world aware that we are all here and we deserve as much light as anyone else” you were worried he would think you selfish, wanting him to take on the world. But Taron seemed to be taking in your words and contemplating them. “I hadn’t thought of it that way” he finally answered. “It’s just an idea” you began, but he shook his head “no it’s a good idea, I just need to think about it all, you know” he said softly.   
You could feel his warmth and the gentle rhythm of his breath, was lulling you to sleep. He smelt like home, you thought. Whatever that meant. There was a loud cough as a team of medics entered the room. The pair of you moved quickly away and you climbed into your chair. “Ms y/s/n can you return to your own bed we need to speak with you” the lead doctor asked. Once by your bed the medics pulled the curtain around.  
Taron did his best to eavesdrop, but his bed was nearer the corridor and noise from the ward, made it impossible. When the curtain was finally pulled back and the medics left. He saw you curled up on the bed. From the shaking movements, he could tell that you were crying. He scrambled into the chair and came over. “What happened” he asked “They are transferring me” you managed through wracking sobs “To a fucking psyche ward” you spat as you crumbled,

The End.


End file.
